The NL Central: Old Faces, New Fears

The secondary goal of human existence is to dress animals up like people, but that's not important right now.

The primary goal is to make memories.

We dress up, we go out, we have fun and we photograph the entire occasion.

As a society, we've done an excellent jobs of creating designated checkpoints to observe and celebrate these moments.

Holidays, weddings, theme parties...all provide ample opportunities to kick back and enjoy life.

(For any non-Caucasian readers out there: First of all, welcome. Second, a "theme party" is where white people dress up in similar costumes and pretend to be clever. It's like Halloween, but in May. Don't ask why we do it. No one knows)

But for all these forced interactions fueled by alcohol and the desire to not die alone, one stands above the rest as the perfect mix of nostalgia and schadenfreude.

One event brilliantly toes the line between "reliving the good 'ol days" and "the social equivalent of a six car pileup."

I'm talking, of course, about a high school reunion.

You dress up nice and arrive fashionably late (and fashionably drunk).

You slowly head to the door, silently praying that your ex is fat and married with an ugly child.

And oh! How the memories come flooding back as you see a giant banner above the entrance, lovingly decorated by some spinster who couldn't score a date.

There is no division in baseball with more familiar faces than the NL Central.

There's just something about the mid-western anonymity that makes it the perfect place to fade into obscurity.

ST. LOUIS CARDINALS: And if the NL Central is your high school reunion, the Cardinals were the prom queen.

A lot of history, championships and accolades in her early years, she was voted Most Likely to Succeed in a landslide.

But now she's gotten a little older, one of her aces (Adam Wainright) is out for the season, and that meal ticket she's been riding all these years (Albert Pujols) could be looking for a divorce soon.

You may have wanted the prom queen's life for the last ten years, but the next ten seem rife with uncertainty.

In fact, just the sight of the once-great Lance Berkman riding pine is enough to fill me with a sense of impending doom.

Still, a strong rotation and the best player alive would be enough to win the division in most seasons, except...

CINCINNATI REDS: ...some previously frumpy band geek ditched the glasses, took a yoga class, got her hair did and showed up to the party as a stone cold hottie.

(You're in love with this analogy, right? Right?)

On the back of Joey Votto's MVP season, the Reds came from seemingly nowhere to knock the Cards off their perch atop the division last season.

And while it may seem like there's no difference between starters Edinson Volquez and Johnny Cueto---both being young and Dominican with career ERAs around 4.30---you must dig deeper.

Volquez is a power pitcher with a tight slider and a lively fastball, but Cueto relies on location and worships the dark lord Sauron while feasting on the souls of the damned.

Edinson was an All-Star in 2008 and started Game 1 of last year's NLDS, while Johnny has roamed the Earth for 7,000 years and bursts into flames when doused in holy water.

Lastly, Edinson Volquez really loves House, but Cueto thinks it's overrated. And he can never die.

"The plot is really formulaic, that's all I'm saying."

Incredibly, manager Dusty Baker failed to shatter Aroldis Chapman's arm into a thousand pieces last season, prompting many to wonder if he had lost his patented, career-obliterating touch.

I'm not worried, though. He has big plans for Homer Bailey and Travis Wood this year. I can feel it.

Don't let me down, Dusty.

CHICAGO CUBS: Aw heck, who doesn't love the Cubs?

The Cubs are the guy who everybody just liked in high school, either for his affable nature or the fact that you never felt threatened leaving your girlfriend alone with him.

And with a roster chock full of Carlos Penas and Ryan Dempsters, who wouldn't want to root for this little guy?

Problem is, it's tough to imagine them putting up much of a fight this season.

Former superstar Alfonso Soriano still patrols left field, Aramis Ramirez is over the hill, and resident loose cannon Carlos Zambrano is good for three headaches a season (at least).

It's a shame, too, because baseball is just more exciting when Chicago is contending.

The Cubs are like pizza, or sex: When they're good, life is great. When they're bad, they ruin my 9th birthday party.

MILWAUKEE BREWERS: The older kid in class who got left back a few times, you only paid attention to him because he could get you booze.

Which is great, because that's the name of the damn team.

This analogy is incredible, I keep telling you.

But nowadays we're paying attention not just because Ryan Braun and Prince Fielder are awesome, but because the 1-2 punch of Yovani Gallardo and Zack Greinke are so good they'll make your spell check explode.

And with Yuniesky Betancourt and Rickie Weeks as a double-play team, we'll finally have an answer to the question, "Is it possible to win if you're just awful?"

All (hilarious) jokes aside, the Brewers are a deep team with a lot of veteran presence off the bench.

Mark Kotsay is great for clubhouse morale, and Craig Counsell wants nothing more than to be your friend.

Throw in a potentially dominant closer in John Axford, and Milwaukee is no longer just a team with a mascot that haunts my dreams.

"You can't stay awake forever."

PITTSBURGH PIRATES: But it's nice to know some things never change.

The Pirates were losers back then, and they're losers today.

With Adrian Gonzalez and Ryan Zimmerman getting new friends this offseason, Pirates centerfielder Andrew McCutchen is officially the loneliest superstar in baseball.

Congratulations, Andrew. I'd drop the trophy off at your birthday party, but I'm not coming. Nobody is.

But chin up, pal. At least you have some sweet digs.

PNC Park is picturesque, basically making it the sweetest parents' basement of all time.

HOUSTON ASTROS: An artsy loner whose Dad made him play high school football, the Astros just don't belong.

During pigskin season in the Lonestar State, it's tough to remember these fellas even exist. Which only makes things more difficult, because it's tough to remember they exist in the first place.

Don't waste too much time on them this season, but do check in periodically as Bill Hall, Clint Barmes and Humberto Quintero play everyone's favorite game, "Let's see who can get benched first."

My money's on Bill Hall.

A decent player a few years ago, he's bound to lose interest after Hunter Pence's annual Memorial Day Totally 80's theme party.

AND THE WINNER IS: Before Wainwright went down, I was ready to pick the Cardinals to bounce back.

But now? I'm going with Milwaukee.

Few teams are lucky enough to have an offensive duo the likes of Braun/Fielder or the dueling aces of Gallardo/Greinke, but the Brew Crew has both.

This was probably the toughest division to call so far. But it's like I always say:

When in doubt, go with the terrifying Hulk Hogan Muppet.

That's just smart baseball.